


Subspace

by sinousine



Series: Minicon Purgatory [1]
Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers: Armada
Genre: Claustrophobia, Crying, Incest, Other, POV Second Person, Sensory Deprivation, Twine, Urination, abuse by caretaker, so perhaps analogous to a disabled adult being treated like a child, unicron's age is ambiguous but his creator is so much bigger than him :(
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-27
Updated: 2015-11-27
Packaged: 2018-05-03 14:06:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 584
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5294045
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sinousine/pseuds/sinousine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Because you were a bad minicon and didn't do as he said, your Creator has locked you in a subspace box.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Subspace

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Ambrosia](https://archiveofourown.org/works/3628068) by [Cyndi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cyndi/pseuds/Cyndi). 



> This is the text of my [Twine of the same title](http://teleconnect.tumblr.com/post/134026091119/i-made-a-twine-based-on-ambrosia-its-called).
> 
> There are certain interactive features of Twines that are difficult to replicate as static text, so play the Twine.

Because you were a bad minicon and didn't do as he said, your Creator has locked you in a subspace box.

(He is a gigantic, terrifying bot with sharp teeth and glowing eyes.)

You were excitedly pacing about and laughing when you thought about something you liked, and that displeased him, because good minicons don't act happy out of nowhere, and embarrass their creators by looking like idiots.

It's completely dark inside the box.

You can't see anything in front of you.

You feel around.

You feel the edges of the box.

It's big enough for you to sit inside and barely big enough to stand in or stretch your limbs.

There is no opening that you can feel with your tiny fingers.

You wait.

Your Creator does not open the box.

You wait.

You sing to yourself, but not out loud, because it would make Him angry.

You sit with your arms hugging your legs.

You wait.

You run of songs.

You wait.

You think of what you'll do when you're let out of the box. If you're good he'll take to a nice ringed planet and you can look at the window. You might see a plasma spirit on his ship's detectors. You start to think of what you'd do to be let out. It's likely he'll...well we all know where this is going, don't we?

You wait.

You push against the walls of the box.

Your waste tank is full and there is nowhere to go.

You soil yourself.

You uncomfortably shift aside to avoid the puddle, but after a while you lie down in your own waste fluids.

You haven't refuelled in a while. You start to feel light-headed.

You wait.

After what seems like an eternity, your Creator still hasn't come back for you.

You knock on the wall.

 

No reply.

 

"Master, can I come out now?"

 

No reply.

 

...

 

You knock on the walls of the box.

 

...

 

No reply.

 

 

 

You fear he has forgotten you, or got sucked into a black hole, leaving you here for all eternity.

You start banging on the walls of the box.

 

 

 

 

 

 

"Master?"

"Can you please let me out?"

"It's so dark..."

"PLEASE?"

"I'm begging you."

"MASTER?"

"CAN YOU HEAR ME?"

"PLEASE!"

"I'll do anything Master!"

"ANYTHING!"

"Don't leave me all alone in here!!"

"Master?"

"Canyoupleaseletmeout?"

"It'ssodarkPLEASEI'mbeggingyouMASTERCANYOUHEARMEPLEASE!"

"I'lldoanythingMasterANYTHING!"

"Don'tleavemeallaloneinhere!!"

"PLEASE!"

"I'M BEGGING YOU!"

**"I'LL DO ANYTHING!"**

 

 

 

 

 

 

You call out until your vocabulator fizzes out. After what seems like another eternity, you hear the turn of a lock.

You are curled up fetal position inside the box. There are mineral stains on your cheeks and dried waste fluids on the underside of your legs. You cried yourself dry.

You see your Creator looking down at you from the other side of your subspace prison.

 **"Anything?"** , he says, mocking you for your earlier desperation.

You nod.

He grimaces in disgust at the dried waste on your chassis. You anticipate a rough hosing-down later, if he's generous.

He can sense you have been crying. More ammunition for him to use against you.

What else could a minicon could when locked in a small, dark box with nothing but his own fear?

You let him lift you out of the box and carry you towards the washracks.

You do not sleep that night.

Eventually, he takes you to a pretty planet with rings and sleep in his bed, and it's as if he was always a good Creator.

But inevitably you end up inside that box again.


End file.
